Greg pounded down the hall as fast as he could, which is to say not very fast at all, more a sort of hurried waddle, but it felt like running to Greg's poor beleaguered heart. Rounding the corner he collided with a person coming the opposite way.
"Why don't you watch where you're going you blundering fool!" he shouted.
Standing back up to full height he regarded the man he'd collided with. Not much to look at, certainly not wealthy, well not wealthy enough to stand parleying with, Greg doubted it'd get him any one of his three favourite things.
"Look chum, Rheinland marines are coming from that way, and frankly I doubt they'd be happy to see us. I'm heading to the IND offices, just in case Jay accuses me of shirking my duties to the company, you know how he is... well I guess you don't but no matter."
Greg began to waddle again.
Saint Del is considered a holy healer of diseases of children, but also as a protector of cattle.
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"Hey, wait! If Rheinland marines are coming, then... wouldn't we have a better chance together?" Stanley jogged after the man, finding himself suddenly moving a considerable deal slower. than he was before. "If you find you can't get to your offices, perhaps I can help find a way out of here. I think they've cut communications, anyways <strike>---</strike> the neural net terminal in that room is not working."
"Your choice, I can guarantee the IND offices will be damn sight more opulent than wherever you were thinking of. And the added bonus is they're on this level."
Greg looked at his companion, as if daring him to make a joke about it.
"Lord Gregory Bayliss, OBE, Executive VP of the IND's Crisis Management division."
He almost stuck out a chubby hand for the man to shake but thought better of it, who knew if he'd washed anytime soon, or indeed ever. Always the problem with the poor, no sense of personal hygiene. Greg turned and waddled again.
If the man responded Greg didn't pay attention. He was far too focused on the thought of the plush sofas and the good tea, and possibly even the lively young ladies, although knowing Jay they wouldn't be lively, or indeed young. Plain and efficient. Useful even. Probably the most complimentary thing you could say about the women of the IND, well other than Sasha. Or Sophie.......... or that other girl, what was her name? Greg couldn't remember. He realised he'd found where he needed to be. Pausing to catch his breath, he noted his companion hadn't even broke sweat. Greg snarled politely, and ran his keycard through the access slot.
"I'd have used the damn neuralnet code, but apparently they've even shut that down."
Saint Del is considered a holy healer of diseases of children, but also as a protector of cattle.
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"This was all very well-orchestrated, then. They must've been planning in advance..." He waited politely for Bayliss to open the door, doing an excellent job to refrain from comments of his stature. He brushed his hair back with his hand, hoping the fat man knew what he was doing... else, who knows where they'd be soon, or in what condition?
Security Officer Jack Mallen picked up a cup of cold coffee from the empty mess hall, looking around and shaking his head
Another day in paradise...
He heard a dull thud, seconds later he heard the automated message.
"Bonn Station is under attack. Battleship Strausberg has opened fire against our turrets. Transports with marines have been seen heading towards several airlocks. Proceed to your nearest emergency point and stand by for further instructions. Repeat: Bonn Station is under attack..."
Today? Really? This job just keeps getting better and better.
He put down his coffee and un-holstered his sidearm. He ran over to the nearest comm terminal, and tried to get in contact with Station Control. There was nothing but static.
Hrm, can't be standard Rheinland Military, no way they work that fast.
Realizing that the station was lost, His LSF training kicked in, and he bolted down the hallway, making sure people where in their quarters and safe.
If they capture me and figure out who I am, I won't see anyone I know again. Odds are they have already captured the Hangars, and this Peashooter won't do anything to powered armor.
Power does not corrupt. Fear corrupts... perhaps the fear of a loss of power.
Felix Sherman startled awake at the station-wide alert.
He had fallen asleep in his office chair;he closed his eyes for a moment more before rising swiftly and accessing the security feeds on his terminal.
He eyed the airlock cameras with distaste as he muttered to himself.
"Looks like retirement's over."
gone four years, first day back: Zoners still getting shot in Theta :|
Voss kept his breathing slow and even as the Marines continued the march deeper into the station's network of corridors. He could hear the Oberleutnant in his battlesuit passing by marines further back and getting closer. Ahead he saw an four-way intersection. As he reached it and looked down each passage he frowned. The passage to the right showed signs of intense use due to scuff-marks on the ground, however the path to the left had an active light-source. The path that continued forwards for a short distance where a Cargo-Lift waited at the end.
Turning around he gave a hand signal to the Oberleutnant's Armoured Suit and gestured towards the Cargo-Lift, hoping he would get the message while he singled out a pair of marines to follow him down the left passage.
The rest of the marines continued down the right path, leaving Voss and his two escorts to scout out their own corridor. His escorts eventually stopped by a Personnel lift while Voss stopped dead in his tracks off to the side, he smiled slightly under his helmet and gave a stiff nod.
"According to the Schematics this lift will connects to all the decks in the Docking Wing, we will head up and walk the rest of the way to the Offices...I'll go first...Wait here for my signal." he ordered, the marines muttered their affirmatives while Voss entered the lift calmly, the lift eventually started to move upwards, calm and bright music could be softly heard through the elevator's speakers as the lift eventually slowed down and opened up to the new deck, exiting the lift he checked his pistol's energy cell and examined the immediate area carefully...
Jack was clearing the last few rooms on the level, double and triple checking each room to make sure everyone was evacuated. He rushed to the end of the hallway, knowing the lift connected to the deck the most logical spot for a breach was. Hearing the lift slowing to a halt on his floor, he jumped out of sight, just as the sliding doors opened to reveal a armored soldier.
Oh crap.
Hearing a pistols powercell being locked in place, it could only mean one thing. He was no longer alone.
Power does not corrupt. Fear corrupts... perhaps the fear of a loss of power.
"Damnit! Something's wrong with the comm links! I can't get access to the network!"
Kurtt stormed over to Franz and grabbed him by his shoulder, spinning him around in his chair to look at him.
"What the hell do you mean you can't get access to the network?! How are you supposed to do your job then?!"
Franz shoved himself away from the bulky and abrasive bodyguard. He thought to himself for a moment while wiping the dust off his glasses, then set them back on his face gently.
"We can't use the comms.. But they probably can."
"They?"
"The marines. They've probably got their own private network. In fact, I'm sure of it. If I could get access to some of their equipment.. Yes yes that would work nicely. Though I'm sure they have individual passcodes set on every node. Hmm. We'll need a live marine most likely, along with any equipment he'll have on him."
Kurtt smiled widely and picked up his Dublin Dustbuster from the table. He held it in his hands proudly, like a newly appointed king wielding his own weapon, ready for battle.
"Eh.. I've been meaning to ask you.. How the hell did you get that thing past security?"
Kurtt's smile slowly declined into a frown as he thought about the question, as if trying to remember. Then, with a sudden urge of passion a light lit up and it came back to him.
"Oh! Ya, it was already here. Just sort of.. picked it up. I'm sure 'Kurtt' won't miss it anyways."
The two laughed a bit before getting back to work, packing their supplies and readying themselves to leave the room.
Frederick caught sight of Voss' gesture and shrugged mentally, thinking, "Where else could I take this thing?" He maneuvered his heavy suit down the corridor thudding the entire way. Manipulating the controls to the lift Frederick boarded it noticing the few options available.
Frederick brought up the schematics and gave them a quick run through thinking aloud, "Looks like I can take this thing up to level 40... where the armory is... probably a resistance point however CiC is a more valuable target... Which is on level 60, unfortunately this only goes up to 55, from there I would have to make my way through several civilian sectors... und then the security barracks. Hmph." Sighing Frederick punched the button to take him to the civilian sectors. "Well here comes der fun part."
Smirking to himself at the thought of what a poor [redacted] it would be who thought it would be a good idea to see if the cargo lift still worked. He was going to be in for quite the surprise. Frederick primed his gas grenades and stun-pulse autocannon as the elevator chimes and the doors slide open. His walker thunders out into the passageway scanning the surroundings for signs of life.
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